As the years go by and the trips around the sun continue, I’ve been able to notice more rhythms and seasons to my life. Every summer I crave fresh strawberries and blueberries and cherries and eat my fill trying to beat the “oh, they’re going rot!” hourglass and then I’m absolutely sick of them . . . until the next summer when the ache for summer’s sweet produce returns. Every month I dread taking care of the paperwork that piles up in my “paperwork to take care of” basket; on a Sunday afternoon or before a trip, I’ll attack the stack with a disposition that would make a Mission: Organization crew proud, and then I wonder why in the world I don’t take care of these things in a more timely manner . . . as I watch the next monthly pile accumulate. During the summer months, evenings are for walking; winter months, evenings are for knitting.
I’ve also noticed cycles that are more yearly in nature, and they usually happen in two-three years. When I moved to Newberg, I got really involved in school and youth group until my junior year when I experienced my first serious bout of depression and crashed. I lived with my roommate Alli for three years. I lived in Boise for 2 years and started getting antsy for another job. I worked at Fox for 2 years before I started getting antsy again. Judah and Abel are 2.75 years apart. I’ve been participating at a different level (as a woman and mom versus high schooler/young adult/young married) at my faith community for three years. And I’ve been blogging for three years.
As the 2-3 year mark approaches, I seem to get antsy/befuddled/anxious/ponder my identity-linked-with-activities. I haven’t been writing online a great deal, which doesn’t mean the thoughts aren’t present (although they’re a little floopy due to a lack of sleep), but they just haven’t seemed relevant or necessary to add to the world wide blogosphere. And yet I’ve really appreciated the connection with others that I’ve felt as I’ve written (though most of y’all won’t comment, but randomly mentioned, “Oh, I read that on your blog”, and my first reaction is “Lordy, did I make an ass of myself?” or “Which blog? The one that talks about God-stuff, or the one that talks about projectile poo-stuff?” Seriously, let me know that you’re out there: I promise that commenting doesn’t hurt – usually).
I’m not the one who seems to have entered the Great Blogging Identity Metamorphasis. Folks I’ve read for some time are revamping their sites, be it through design or content or taking on whole other identities. And since this is National Blog Posting Month, I figured it’d be as good of a time as ever to figure out what this whole ajschwanz.com thing is about.
So, being the good “facilitator” that I am, I’m going to turn it out to you, my faithful (and somewhat silent – shame on you, Quakers – you know what the period of quietism did to the priesthood of all believers) readers. I was thinking, “Hmm, what would it look like to have an Frequently Asked Questions page?” Well, I supposed I’d actually have to have questions that folks would ask me. Might be helpful . . .
So, ask me a question. I can’t guarentee that I can answer all questions, and I doubt that I’m going to create a sermon series out of them, but really: what sorts of questions would you like to see answered in an FAQ on this site? You can comment or email me or tell me in passing, though I must warn you, if it’s not written down, most likely it won’t adhere to a brain that’s mostly focused on making sure the toddler isn’t engaging in “helpful” behaviors that aren’t always so helpful.
If I was a really good Quaker blogger, I’d change it to Frequently Asked Queries, but since I’m also wearing a colored shirt and buttons and recently have been feeling the need to say “can I get a glory?!!” at church, I’m probably not *that* good of a Quaker blogger.